


Clockwork

by Eissel



Series: Whumptober 2019 [5]
Category: Assassination Classroom
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Atypical Relationship, Blood, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gun Violence, Minor Violence, No 8 - Stab Wound, Post-Canon, Whumptober, Whumptober 2019, bad medical knowledge, these idiots snark to convey their feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 18:57:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20953328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eissel/pseuds/Eissel
Summary: She finds him 10 years after the fateful classroom. She doesn’t mean to stay, but they’ve been through too much for her to leave.Tadaomi bleeds out and Irina waits with him.





	Clockwork

It’s raining. Irina makes a mental note of that as she leans over the man she knew. He’s wet, lying in a puddle of his own blood. The silver knife gleams against his dark clothing. His brown eyes are searching, and slightly glazed from the pain. His breath is shallow and his heartbeat flutters like a butterfly.

“Never seen you brought so low. I always thought that I’d be the one to do that.” She muses. 

“Please,  _ don’t. _ If I must, I’d like to pass on in peace.” He groans and closes his eyes. 

“Always so disdainful Karasuma- _ sensei. _ ”

“I’m no teacher anymore.” 

“Neither am I.” She watches as his chest heaves, the muscles flexing and spasming wildly. “Hurts, doesn’t it?”

“This is why I couldn’t be an assassin.” She stifles a laugh. 

“You’re joking right? You became an assassin when you stepped foot in that classroom. We  _ raised  _ a horde of them.”

“You make them sound like our kids.”

“Weren’t they?” He leans his head back, and the rain water mixes with the wound. “Don’t breathe too hard, it’ll make the blood flow faster.”

“You say that like any help is coming.” She can hear footsteps coming now. She puts a hand on her waist and waits for the stranger to round the corner. 

“He’s here- who the fuck-?!” He doesn’t get to finish, Irina kicks him in the chin, and jams a knife in his side. 

“You never left that life, huh?” He asks weakly. 

“I see you never outgrew your fetish for stating the obvious.”

“Says the woman who’s wearing a  _ red  _ backless lace dress.” She lets the guy fall and stomps his hand with her heel. 

“Who sent you?” She hisses, tossing a glare at Karasuma over her shoulder. 

“Hell if I tell  _ you,  _ bitch!”

“She likes being called that.” Karasuma drawls. 

“Shut  _ up  _ Tadaomi!” She screeches, putting pressure on her heel and cracking a bone. “Now, answer my fucking question else I-” She doesn’t finish, watching as the other goons enter the alleyway. “Nevermind.” She looks back at her former coworker. “Don’t die.”

“I’m not under your orders Irina.”

“Don’t die!” She screams and whips her gun out of her boot, and starts shooting. She’s out of practice, having relied on knives ever since the Assassination Classroom. They still fall like dominoes, and Irina walks back over to Karasuma.

“Took you long enough.” He grinds out. She rolls her eyes. 

“Stick in the mud.”

“Maverick.”

“Ugh, your insults got worse. When the hell is the government supposed to pick you up?”

“Like you don’t know.” She does, he’s right. She sits down, and holds his hand. The flow of blood has staunched. 

“I hate that we always meet like this.”

“We wouldn’t be able to live with monotony of normal life. Don’t kid yourself.”

“I hate seeing you hurt.”

“I know.” She wipes her face, trying to make sure he doesn’t see her cry. “It’s okay.” 

“It’s not.”

“With me it is.” She hugs him tightly, and cries into his neck. 


End file.
